


Sick: Emotionally, Mentally, Physically

by ind1e



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 15:38:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1988391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ind1e/pseuds/ind1e
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jasper worries his team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick: Emotionally, Mentally, Physically

**Author's Note:**

> I must confess. 
> 
> 1\. I’m not really a football/soccer fan (wherever you happen to live), but I have been watching the 2014 World Cup with relative interest (so if I mess things up majorly, please have mercy), and have totally fallen in love with the Netherlands team, most notably, their goal keeper, Jasper Cillessen, and after their heartbreaking loss to Argentina where Jasper sat down after not being able to stop the penalty kicks, I just wanted to give him a hug, and on Twitter and Instagram, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but there were people bashing him about not "being a good goal keeper" and crap like that, and seriously, being an athlete myself, I'm my worst critic, and when I'm beating up on myself anyways, I don't need other people attacking me as well. Cogs in my writer's head started working though, and I started imagining various scenarios, and I decided to write some down for MY enjoyment, so if you don't like this story, I'm sorry, but I'm not writing this so you'll like it. This is just mainly so I can reread it and have it for my own reference and things. There is a reason this is FANFICTION, (or just fiction?) and it is just a product of the author’s imagination, not an actual representation of the real life characters in this story. 
> 
> But, I do apologize if I screw up anything really badly. 
> 
> I am aware that these players all play club, which probably renders my scenario(s) improbable, but they do have the UEFA Euro 2016 Qualification matches coming up, so let us pretend that after a short break they immediately get back together to begin practice again. 
> 
> Thank you, and I do hope that if you read this, you will find brief entertainment or enjoyment within these words.

Jasper’s sick. His head throbs incessantly - has been for the past two weeks. He can’t even remember what it felt like to not have spears of agony stabbing through his head. Bouts of nausea seize him at random moments, and he never really feels like eating anymore, because he knows that if he does, he most likely will spend the night throwing up until he’s dry heaving and retching. 

His heart thrums like a flighty hummingbird’s wings, and when he practices now, sometimes bouts of panic seize him, because he can’t get enough air, can’t breathe well enough, but they always pass. 

He supposes he should be more worried, especially by the constant pain in his chest that accompanies him, along with the discomfort of the fever that gathers in rivulets on his brow when he sleeps at night, tossing and turning around, unable to get comfortable. But all he’s thinking about is the upcoming UEFA Euro 2016 qualifying tournament, and how he needs to do better, be better, after failing his country in the 2014 World Cup in the game with Argentina. 

It’s that drive that gives him the strength to get out of bed in the mornings where he just wants to bury his face in his pillow and stop the aching. It’s that drive that pushes adrenaline in him when he feels like he’s going to collapse, gives his feet a flightiness when they train and practice. It’s that drive that gives him the strength to smile and joke with his amazing teammates when they sit down together, because the last thing they need is another thing to worry about - especially something as useless as his cold. 

After all, it has taken so long for those easy smiles to return to those faces after that rainy game against a blue and white stripe uniformed team in Brazil, and every time Jasper sees that relaxed upwards curve on Robin’s lips, Arjen’s, Daley’s, really everyone, he feels better, like he’s somehow atoning for being the cause of the darkness that swept over them for so long, and he’ll be damned if he’s the cause of that darkness again. 

Now though, he’s slumped against a wall in the locker room, hair still damp from his shower, sweatpants slung lowly on his narrow hips - too narrow, after losing weight from that vicious cycle of not eating and throwing up - coughing wetly, wheezing for breath. The last thing he can really remember is Daley’s panicked face next to his, shaking his shoulders, he thinks, yelling something at him. He’s so tired though, even though he’s sucking in breaths and gulps of air thirstily, it doesn’t seem to alleviate his craving. 

Jasper wonders briefly why Daley is screaming now, and feels irrationally sad for a moment, because all he’s been doing all this time is to not cause anyone pain, and it seems all he can do, all he’s good for, despite his best efforts is causing others pain. He can’t remember what’s going on, only that the darkness at the edge of his vision is creeping closer and closer. He doesn’t want Daley to be hurt though, so he clumsily pats Daley’s hand and slurs out, “Don’ b’worried.” 

He lets the darkness take him without hearing a response. 

“Jasper?” “Jasper!”

\------------------

“Going to kill that idiot when he wakes up-if he hasn’t killed himself first-”

“What was he thinking-”

“Jasper, you hear me? Wake up!”

\--------------------

 

Jasper wakes up to bright light and the sound of mechanical humming. 

His eyelids flicker open, and he sighs as the world spins into a dizzying focus.

He’s immediately aware of three things. He’s in a hospital. It’s late in the afternoon, by the way the sunlight is filtering through the window, a touch of amber in the goldeness. And his teammates are all in the room, Arjen on his left, Daley on his right, Robin at the foot of the bed, and the others scattered around, talking in low voices, playing cards, drinking terrible weak hospital coffee out of paper cups, the same worried, brow-furrowed look mirrored on all of their faces. 

Jasper pushes himself up with weak arms, slumping against the pillows, coughing that same wet cough. 

The harsh sounds of his coughing does bring all eyes on the room to him though, and there is silence for a moment, before their taut expressions, ease way into deep, deep relief, and suddenly, the room is filled with people talking all at once, over each other.

Jasper looks around, still disoriented and bewildered, and Arjen takes pity on him, gently easing himself on the side of the bed and pulling Jasper back so that he’s lying on Arjen’s warm, broad chest. He strokes Jasper’s white-blonde hair, almost like he is a little boy, and softly tells him, “We have been waiting two days for you to wake up. You have been horribly sick, shchatje.” 

“Horribly sick is putting it mildly,” Tim interjects, glaring at Jasper. “When we brought you to the emergency room, you were in there for half an hour before the doctor came out and would tell us what was going on. You know what he said?” Tim’s voice gets more and more heated as he speaks. “He told us that you had a severe case of pneumonia, further worsened by the fact that you were malnourished and exhausted to a breaking point, and, it wouldn’t have been as bad, if you hadn’t continued to train non-stop or at least gone to the doctor’s to get medicine.”

“They had to put you on a ventilator because they said you were struggling to breathe, and it as causing further trauma to you, but they took you off it yesterday,” Wesley moaned. “Do you have any idea how terrifying it was to see you in that bed, a machine breathing for you?” 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone, Jasper? Why did you keep on working so hard?” Robin’s voice is firm, authoritative, but under that is some poorly concealed hurt, disappointment, and concern. 

He coughs, and the entire room winces at the hacking, desperate sound. “I didn’t want you to worry,” he gasps between coughs. “That’s all I was trying to do. I have caused you enough pain and concern for a lifetime, and you shouldn’t need to care about me.” 

He slumps back, white and shaking, and Daley on his other side gently eases his way on the bed as well, mirroring Arjen, and supports the blonde goal-keeper, making soothing circles on his back. “Well, good job on not worrying us,” he says sarcastically, then frowns. “What do you mean, you’ve caused us enough pain?” as Jasper leans to place his head on his shoulder. 

Jasper closes his eyes for a moment, but a thready whisper emerges from his shaking bone-white lips. “The loss against Argentina. My fault.”

There is shocked silence for a moment, before Wesley groans into his hands. “You can’t possibly think--”

“But he does,” Michel snaps back. 

“Jasper!” Robin is kneeling at the side of the bed, holding his wrist a shade too tightly. “It was not your fault. We never held anything against you. It was a team effort, and you can’t take the blame all on your shoulders. We lost as a team, not because of you. You hear me?”

Jasper groans. “How can you say that? I missed the penalty kicks because I wasn’t good enough, fast enough. I need to train harder, practice more, work longer, and if that means foregoing health and happiness for you guys and our country, I will do it!”

“I can’t believe you just said that.” Robin looks outright furious. “I absolutely cannot believe you just said that. What makes you think that you can just decide to hurt yourself for us, and for us to be okay with it? Do you really think that little of us?” 

“No!” Jasper snaps, rasping a little. “I don’t think little of you at all, I think you are all amazingly talented, good, perfect people, that don’t need to worry about some stupid, less talented, less perfect, lesser teammate that can’t stop ruining things for you. I think you should be okay with that.” 

“You’re not just our damn teammate,” Dirk says harshly. “We’re a family, and you can’t just fucking talk about yourself like that either and expect us to be okay with it.” 

Tim takes a shaky breath. “Jasper, you are always there for us, any of us, when we need someone to talk to, someone to give advice, someone to just be there for us. Why won’t you accept the same from us?” 

He’s silent for a moment. “You still don’t get it, and I understand, because you don’t know what it’s like to be me. You don’t get that I don’t deserve to receive anything from you.” 

Robin looks like he wants to shake Jasper by his shoulders so hard, his head bounces, but refrains from doing so. “Who was it that went and talked to all his teammates after a loss, just to make sure that they were okay? Who was it that never broke down, never stop dreaming, believing, fighting? Who was it that trained without complaining, worked harder than all of us together? Who was it that played amazingly for us, saved us on multiple occasions? Who?” When it looks like Jasper isn’t going to answer, he presses on. “Who, Jasper? You. You are talented, amazing, funny, sweet, and you are worth it.” 

“We need you healthy and happy, Jasper, our team needs you, on the pitch, because you as you are irreplaceable as a keeper, in what you bring to the game, to our game. Off the pitch too, because, we need you to be okay, we need you to be your thoughtful, quiet, a little shy, gentle, but always ready to fight self.” Arjen says earnestly. 

Jasper’s shoulders go slack, and they’re starting to worry that he’s passed out when he raises his head, and grins that easy, playful grin. All those that are still standing practically slump to the ground in relief because if Jasper is smiling like that, they know that everything is going to be all right.

“What did I ever do to end up with such an amazing team - no, second family?” he laughs, rasping a little bit. 

Daley laughs. “What did we do to end up with you?” He questions back, pulling Jasper to him. 

“Don’t ever do that again,” Robin says, and his voice is serious, until it lightens. “We love you, but we may be forced - no, provoked into killing you if you pull a stunt like that again.” 

“Ja, Captain,” Jasper snickers, before coughing again, folding almost halfway over to press his forehead against the blankets in an agonized groan. 

“Jasper?” Wesley asks hesitantly. “Do you want us to get the doctor?”

“No,” he replies, face still pressed to the blankets before Daley gently lifts his shoulders up so that he can once again be comfortably ensconced in the protective nest that he and Arjen have made. 

He is a little too pale and shaky, his voice is still a little hoarse, his eyes a little watery, and Arjen places the back of his hand on Jasper’s forehead, alarmed for a second, then letting out a sigh when the skin is cool, almost icy to the touch. 

Jasper swats his hand away, grumbling, “I’m fine.” 

The incredulous looks he is suddenly being shot by everyone in the room make him cringe a little, and draw back in the warmth of Daley and Arjen’s arms and bodies, trembling as he buries his face into Daley’s chest, comforted by the solid beating of his heart. 

“Sleep,” Robin tells him, like a stern, but anxious father. “We will be here when you wake up again.” He hesitates a moment, then brushes Jasper’s cheek in a light, feathery motion that seems unlike the brash, fearless leader. 

“I guess this means you aren’t going to let me sign out tomorrow?” He asks sleepily, slurring a little, just as his eyes are about to close, just because he knows it’ll provoke everyone. 

He falls asleep to the sound of the team ranting about how he’ll stay in that goddamn bed until the doctors say he’s fine, because he will be just fine, goddamn it, because he wouldn’t dare to be anything else, and Jasper, you little shit, you had better not even try to pull any fast moves, and when he gets back to the team hotel, they’re not going to even let him be responsible for anything involving his personal welfare, including feeding himself, and….

**Author's Note:**

> Farewell for now, dear reader. 
> 
> ( P.S. There will probably be another fic like this up soon, as insecure Jasper and Jasper whump gives me feels. #sorrynotsorry )


End file.
